On The Air
by Dragonsbane1611
Summary: (NLG) "I bet it's nice to know who's coming before they get there," she remarked quietly. He snorted, "Not after Quidditch."


**_On The Air_**  
July 2004

She was sitting lazily under a tree by the lake, knees bent, parchment and quill in hand. He studied her for a moment, squinting some in the sunlight, but soon returned his focus to the water.  
  
In the distance, he heard, "Hermione, wait!"  
  
Glancing over his left shoulder, he saw a tall red haired boy running after a shorter girl with bushy brown hair. She was giving him an incredulous glare as he jogged up to her, but allowed him to take her hand and speak softly in her ear. He winked at her and she conceded, sitting with him on the grass, hand still held in his.  
  
Neville enjoyed seeing Ron and Hermione together and smiled just slightly. They, seeing him, waved and he nodded in acknowledgment. As he moved his gaze back to the lake, he noticed that the girl had also turned to watch the couple. When she faced forward, their eyes met and they exchanged waves before quickly turning away.  
  
He drew his knees up and closed his eyes. Sometimes he just liked to listen to the faint sounds of the water and let the breeze blow all around him. He'd often catch fragrances on the air and, over his seven years at Hogwarts, had matched a perfume, cologne, or natural aroma – some more pleasant than others – to many of the students. Aside from Herbology, it was the one thing that came quite easily to him. However, he felt that his two skills were closely related in various ways, so it seemed almost natural.  
  
He inhaled deeply, mentally noting the light wind's scent and direction, and knew that Parvati was somewhere on his right. She wore a strikingly floral perfume that reminded him of his grandmother's gardenias in spring. The corners of his mouth upturned when he found a friend had joined her. Lavender had a tendency for self-centeredness and her daily dose of the fragrance that bore her name illustrated this nicely.  
  
The wind shifted and, for a moment, all his senses could gather were the sounds of the lake gently lapping at its banks and the damp musk that accompanied it. Soon, though, as the breeze tickled the hairs on the back of his neck, he picked up a mixture of honey, vanilla, sandalwood and chamomile and chuckled.  
  
'Should have known,' he thought to himself.  
  
Ron had a strong exotic, woodsy scent (though, whether it was natural or not, Neville didn't know), and Hermione had always smelled of honey and vanilla. Then, sometime in their third year, she'd become acquainted with a chamomile lotion and had used it ever since. When the two of them had begun to spend more quality time together – especially right after – the chamomile would linger and radiate from him.  
  
Again, the wind shifted and he though he just might be out of range of anyone else.  
  
Then, bending his head to hide his expression, he grinned. He breathed in all the air he could from his curled-up position and found no small delight in it's aroma.   
  
Strawberries.  
  
It was only a hint, but it was enough.  
  
Strawberries.  
  
He imagined a pinkish mist enveloping him as the smell seemed to grow stronger, but he knew it was just his mind playing games with him. She was sitting several yards away, working her homework.  
  
Strawberries.  
  
"Neville?" an airy voice intoned, as someone sat beside him. His eyes snapped open and he peered at her from where he was hiding his face and smile.  
  
"Luna?"  
  
"I saw you looking at me."  
  
"Oh, you did?"  
  
"Yes, twice."  
  
He blinked at her.  
  
She blinked back and he rested his forehead on his knees.  
  
"Look at me," she commanded suddenly and he quirked an eyebrow.  
  
"I am looking at you."  
  
"Let me see your whole face."  
  
Biting the inside of his lip to remove any visible signs of delight, he rested his chin on his upper arm. She narrowed her eyes in suspicion and he had to laugh a little. Seeing this, her blue eyes returned to their normal wide look of surprise and she smirked.  
  
"That's what I was looking for."  
  
"What?"  
  
Luna leaned in a brushed her lips against his.  
  
"I wasn't about to kiss you with a frown on your face."  
  
The sandy-haired boy rested his temple on his knee and watched her in silence as she made herself comfortable beside him.  
  
"Neville?" she repeated after a moment.  
  
"Luna?"  
  
"What do I smell like today?"  
  
His grin widened.  
  
"Strawberries," was his answer.  
  
"The same as yesterday?"  
  
"Everyday," he whispered.  
  
"Well, I hope you like strawberries."  
  
He straightened his left leg and braced himself with his arm before leaning in and kissing her a second time.  
  
"What was that for?"  
  
"I love strawberries."


End file.
